burning through the sorrow
by Mae'side
Summary: "What was her life, compared to the world he was supposed to save? She was one woman. One soul. And she did not matter to him at all."  Matt&Emily, Becker&Jess. Loads of Jess&Emily friendship. Yes. That's it. Please let me know what you think? xo
1. Chapter 1

It was almost a week since Ethan had gone. The bad guy had been banished from the realm, and things at the research centre were back to… well, whatever they called 'normal'. Yet she was still here, still stuck between these four walls – in her own makeshift room, kept away from sunlight like a dirty little secret. The flowers Matt had brought her dying from despair.

They would let her leave the ARC, 'accompanied by a friend'- as Lester so lovingly called it. Guard dogs is what they were, trying to keep her from harm. Protect her. She'd felt a need to point out that she'd survived for three whole years in pre-historic times, fighting creatures every step of the way. Lester'd refuted it easily. "The thing is, Emily, that if you were to get into trouble, you would have," he counted on his fingers, "no ID, no address and absolutely no reason for being ignorant of what a cell phone is."

The only time she ever enjoyed going out was when Jess begged Connor to take over the hub for a while, 'captaining her ship' while they went off together. She'd take her new friend out to discover, walking along the river and discovering the wonders found in the tiniest nooks of the city. They'd talk about everything and anything over tea and the most delicious chocolate cake – and it felt wonderful.

One time, when they'd arrived back at the ARC, juggling the numerous bags that held her new wardrobe, Lester had called her into his office, his face grim as if he'd caught her doing something sneaky. She had to pick out a new last name, he told her. To go on her passport. It would be the final step to getting a new life, he said.

"Anything?"

"Anything."

_Anderson_ _sounds nice_. It was the first thing that popped into her head, and immediately she searched the centre for Matt. Their gazes connected briefly and she almost lost herself to the question in his eyes, before James' voice brought her back.

"You're right," he said. "Emily Anderson does have a certain _ring_ to it."

Emily snapped her head towards him, panic bordering her voice. "Please, don't tell him I said that."

"You didn't," James gathered some documents and stood, leaving her speechless. "I'll leave you to think about it."

[..]

He watched her leave the ARC with Jess again, his eyes following her every movement as they walked out of the parking lot and towards the river. If she looked up now, he'd be in deep trouble, but moments like these were all he had – all he allowed himself to have. There were bigger things at stake than his own heart and he could not…_would not_ let her become this important.

A figure walked up to rest beside him, thinking himself sly and sneaky.

"Say one word and I swear I'll shoot you again." Matt glanced at Becker. "Maximum power."

His companion held his hands up in surrender. "I just think it's nice," he said. "You deserve to be happy, Matt."

"She doesn't mean anything to me."

"Right." Becker nodded. "And when exactly are you going to tell her?" He paused. "That _she means nothing to you_, I mean."

Matt shook his head, turning to stare his colleague in the eye. "You know, for an emotional retard, you sure have a big mouth." His eyebrows shot up. "Tell Jess you love her yet?"

Becker looked unaffected. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Really, now?"

"..and anyway, that's different."

"You're right," Matt said. "You could actually be with Jess if you just manned up."

Becker frowned. There was something about Matt that left him confused; as if there was something – some big secret – he was hiding from the world. Like an ulcer, it was breaking him down on the inside. Emily might be the best thing that ever happened to him, and he seemed to realize; yet he would rather risk losing her forever than let her in.

"We're friends, yeah?"

God knows it had taken him a long time to admit that, even to himself. Yet slowly but surely, working at the ARC had become more than just a job. The people who worked there were family now, and when Abby, Connor and Danny had disappeared, he hadn't just failed in his task, in his duty. It was more than that : he'd failed _them_. It had torn him apart.

Matt's voice was soft when he replied. "Yeah."

He nodded, satisfied. Placed a hand on Matt's shoulder only briefly – enough to be felt, though not long enough to be an intrusion – before turning away. "You know where to find me."

* * *

><p>The words sounded harsh and mean – exactly how he'd hoped they would. "I don't want her here."<p>

Lester's eyebrows shot up, nearly touching his hairline. Mouth going crooked in a meant-to-be-sarcastic way; too much for him to handle. "Call me crazy, but I always you believed you were her big knight in _shining_ armour, weren't you?" He cocked his head to the side with a exasperated sigh. "Or that's what you led me to believe anyway. Tell me something, Matt – is this all one big 'show' for you? A big happy parade with dinosaurs for elephants, me dancing on the flimsiest of ropes?"

"As much as I love your wonderful imagination, there's just one thing that doesn't make any sense in you…" he smirked, "beautifully concocted metaphor."

"Oh, right?"

"The circus is no place for a knight in shining armour."

He didn't want to admit it – in fact, he _hated_ to – but Lester was right : his life had turned into one giant circus, one where he wasn't even sure who was in charge anymore. It certainly wasn't him, anyway. Whoever it was that'd said '_all the world's a stage'_, they were right. Now more so then ever. "Doesn't matter, anyway. I want her gone."

"She knows too much."

"Oh, come on." He couldn't believe this. A part of him suspected Lester to secretly run a dating agency within the ARC. _How to get all my dinosaur loving staff to date _for dummies. "Surely you can get her to sign some kind of confidentiality agreement. Wipe her mind, for all I care."

"Matt, you've met the woman." He looked annoyed now. "D'you honestly think she'll sign anything of the kind?"

No. Of course not. Emily'd go kicking and screaming, if she had to go. A silly slip of paper wouldn't stop her; nothing would. Yet he needed it to. So desperately. "Please, Lester. I don't care how you do it."

]..[

Let it never be said James Lester did not care for his employees. Well, _of course_ he was their boss and _not_ – he repeated it to himself in the mirror daily – _NOT_ their friend. He would not get all cuddly with them or head out for drinks together, but still. He wanted them to be happy. _Happy workers; happy boss._

Matt Anderson was anything but happy. He knew this. Matt knew this. The whole bloody ARC did. They'd given up on trying after a while. Put a stamp upon his forehead. 'Lost cause', it read. In big, _shiny_ letters.

There was something about _her_, though. Something about Emily that got under Matt's skin, made him crawl with anxiety, wishing he could just...be happy. Or something. Which was exactly why Lester called Emily to his office later that afternoon and explained the whole shebang to her. Every word Matt'd said. Get them riled up, James. Force them to yell at each other, all the words they didn't even dare to whisper.

He watched her expression change from confused – then sad – to absolutely furious. Watched her posture go rigid. Her voice, excusing herself politely (it was the _Victorian_ in her) before breaking on the last syllables. Emily stood, quietly. Collected. Then marched out the door, in Matt's direction.

_Well done, James. There's a good chap._

[..]

"You told James to fire me."

Emily was proud of herself for sounding calm. For not slapping Matt across the face when he touched her arm, gently (gently! She huffed.) leading her away from the rest of their team mates. Well, only _his_ now, apparently. She could feel Jess's quick, worried glance towards her – but decided they'd talk later. First, she needed to know everything.

"It's for your own good." He said.

"You're wrong. Try again." She looked at him, her eyes spitting fire. Stood in front of him, the same way she'd defied her father by stating she would not marry lord Merchant. Not for all the titles in the world, she wouldn't. (Much good it'd done her, but still – it was the act that counted.) Matt looked equally unimpressed.

"I can't work when you're here." He actually had the nerve to look righteous. In his eyes, she saw everything she needed to know. Matt did not want her here; and so she had to go.

His cause. His life. What was hers, compared to the world he was supposed to save? She was one woman. One soul. And she did not matter to him at all.

"I'm only supposed to do what you want me to?" Her voice grew louder, and louder; before she knew it, she'd lost herself. The idea of Matt trying to control her like this was… She shook her head and grinned, bitterness and venom rising in her throat. She felt like vomiting. "Feels like I'm back home."

The man who stood before her didn't even twitch. Stoic. Tall. Proud.

Her hand struck his cheek. The sound was reminded her of breaking glass. She imagined herself shatter on the floor. Only she vowed he would not be there to watch.

Emily turned her back. Walked out and breathed in the fresh air. Someone would be sent after her to retrieve her; tell her she was not supposed to go. Someone would. Just not the one she wanted.

]..[

His cheek stung from where she'd struck him, but instead of wanting the pain to go away, he instead craved it to remain. The pain was all he had left of her now.

Becker's voice was close to his ear. "I sure hope you know what you're doing."

Yeah. He did, too.


	2. Chapter 2

"I don't understand you, sometimes."

Like a tigress defending her cub, Jess cursed him for what he'd done; but there was also pity in her voice, sympathy. Matt Anderson was, and would remain, a puzzle she was unable to solve, for he would not let her. He wouldn't let any of them. Look what had happened, with Emily. Look at the happiness he'd had an ever-so-brief taste of, before striking the source of it down to the ground. He'd trampled it – _her_ – beneath his feet. _For her own good_, he told himself. _For the good of the whole damn world. _

He had to give Becker credit for resting beside him. He knew the captain didn't approve of what had happened, either – but for some reason, Becker believed in him. He wasn't sure what he'd done to ever earn that trust, but he was grateful for it. "Come on." e got a brief tap on the shoulder. "Work to be done."

[..]

She'd walked out (had felt like _running_) of the ARC building, knowing she would not return there ever again. A part of her – the rebellious side Henry so despised – wanted to show up again the next day, every single cell of her screaming out the words _'I will not be kicked out',_ but her emotions stood in the way, overriding everything else : she could not bear the thought of staying, knowing Matt did not want her there. Did not _want her_, period.

When Lester had explained to her what'd happened, what Matt had asked him to do, she had not wanted to believe him. After all, Matt had been the one to keep her safe from being locked up in the ARC the minute she'd arrived; he'd been the one to rescue her when she'd been abducted. And she was so sure there had been something between them, she'd felt it in her heart. Hadn't he?

It started to rain. Emily raised her eyes to the sky and attempted to stare the raindrops down. They splashed against her face and into her eyes; and she was forced to blink her way through them. _That's alright_, she thought. _Better to have the heavens cry than me._

Even though she had no raincoat, nor an umbrella to keep her safe from the downpour, Emily kept on walking with no destination in mind. No place to go. She was lost to the world.

Only, mere minutes later, Jess' car appeared on the road – windshield wipers energetically moving back and forth. She rolled her window down and called out Emily's name. The young woman turned her head, and when she looked at Jess her eyes were glassy from both rain and her own sadness. She was cold, and her hair clung to her face, framing it perfectly... but it took her a few minutes to react. _Warmth_…_companionship._ Yes, she could use them right about now.

"Come on," Jess said. "Get in."

They sat in silence for a while, just listening to the sounds of the car as it made its way through the empty streets. Everyone had fled inside, seeking shelter from the rain. She could see the people standing behind the glass entry doors of shops, peering out – assessing the greyness of the sky. Emily wished she could be among them, caring for nothing more than when it would be safe to venture out again. She'd blend into the masses. Forget for a while.

"I can't go back to the ARC."

Jess nodded beside her. "I know. You'll be staying with me for a while, is that alright?"

Emily turned to her, finally allowing Jess to look into her eyes. Letting her in, showing her all the pain that made her feel like curling up into a ball and crying her heart out. "Thank you."

Jess only smiled, patted her knee. "That's what friends are for."

]..[

For the better part of the next morning, Matt didn't really know if he was looking for excuses _not_ to go near Emily's quarters, or searching for reasons to justify his presence in the small room. He knew she wouldn't be there, of course. He'd made sure of that, single-handedly driven her out of the building. But the memory of her would linger.

In the end he couldn't stay away.

The closet stood wide open, defying him with its emptiness. Her whole room had been cleared out, save for one item: the flowers he had brought her. He felt a sharp and sudden pain, almost as if a stake had been driven through his chest. His breath was stolen from him. _Excellent,_ his mind echoed. _Let's make it hurt a little. _

His work served him well as a distraction. Ploughing through the numerous files he had on each and every one of the ARC members, letting his eyes fly over the words and sentences… it made him forget, if only for a few precious minutes. Matt leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes, pressing his fists just a little harder to his eyelids to strengthen the darkness. It was a trick he had taught himself years ago, during his training. It allowed him focus on the pain he'd created, not the one that threatened to consume him.

He lasted three whole days before checking the security tapes, searching for her. (He'd told himself that he'd use the footage to search for abnormal behaviour of any of the employees and try to decipher which one of them was the person responsible for the end of the world.) He felt a little strange, breaking into his own company's surveillance system, but it could not be helped. His mission required it – it _did._ But he found himself not so much observing Philip and Connor, Abby or Lester; instead his eyes focussed on an entirely different person. Matt watched Emily walk in with Jess the night of their big fight, carrying two overnight suitcases that soundlessly rolled through the abandoned halls.

Emily paused in the doorway and let her body fall against the frame as if she was somehow too tired to carry on. Then she pushed herself away from the edge, forced herself to go in.

_Get it over with. I was never here._

[..]

For the past few days, Emily Merchant had done many-a-thing. The first day, she had allowed herself to wallow in self-pity : she'd slept in, ate breakfast and then spent the rest of the day watching day-time movies from the 1930's. The most evilest of things, she'd decided afterwards. While they were humorous at times, their romantic plotlines had been all too real. It _hurt_.

Halfway through the fifth – or was it seventh? – movie of the day, she'd made up her mind. She may not be the most lucky of creatures, not when it came to love, nor when it came to different circumstances, but there was one thing she'd always had. Emily was strong. Resilient. And she would not let people just waltz over her; she did not care if they were called Henry or Matt. And while Matt's mission was, no doubt, _truly_ important, it did not give him the right to treat her like this.

Jess had treated her epiphany with mixed feelings. "I'm sure Matt had his reasons," she'd said, then continued on more vehemently, "but you're right. What he did was wrong, Emily; you deserve better."

Emily 'd called Lester the very same day, who told her that his wife was on the look-out for an assistant. "I think you'd be perfectly qualified," he assured her. "And anyway, I figured I owe you for what happened."

_Oh, let's not think of that_. Emily smiled, though he did not see her from the other side of the line. "Thank you, James."

The evening was spent choosing the perfect outfit for a potentially-first-day-at-a-new-job; she hated to say it was one of the dresses Matt had loved on her. She could just about hear his voice as she walked into the gallery the next day. _"You look great,"_ he would say. She shook her head to clear it – Matt Anderson had no business being in her head today. Emily took a deep breath and entered.


	3. Chapter 3

"It has come to my attention, through a _variety_ of unnameable sources, that the New Foundation gallery's acquired a very interesting new addition."

Matt felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Leave it to the Jess & Becker duo-act to keep him posted on Emily's whereabouts. Jess would, no doubt, be a lot more direct than her male counterpart, and her eyes would probably betray every swear word she felt like hurling at him for letting her friend down this way. "Oh?"

His friend perched himself on the side of his desk, grabbing a balled up piece of paper to appear careless, even though every nerve was on alert to take note of Matt's reaction. "We should maybe check it out sometime."

When Matt looked up at him, Becker could not only see the pain in his eyes, he could feel it, too. Hear it in every syllable of the slowly spoken reply that he knew, inevitably, was coming. "I'm not really an artsy type."

"Right." Becker tossed the ball into the air, swiftly catching it again. He knew Matt didn't like to be pressured – which was the main reason why he had convinced Jess to let _him_ do this – but this was becoming too much. He sighed. "Matt, don't be an idiot."

"I can't just go in and see her." _Oh, so they __**were**__ on the same page, after all._ He'd always known Matt had a bit of brain left in there, despite all the bonehead decisions his friend had made the last couple of days. "You know that."

"Yet you still don't trust me enough to tell me _why_."

Matt shook his head. God, he hated this. Of course he trusted Becker (he'd become his very best friend), but he just couldn't tell him without feeling like he was betraying his father. His mission. And then, he couldn't keep from picturing Becker's reaction to all of it. How cheap his friend would feel, how he'd feel like he didn't know Matt at all. He'd think of their friendship as nothing more than a web of illusions, spun to keep his cover straight. "I trust you with my life."

He supposed Becker recognized the honesty in those words, because he suddenly smiled. "You _do _know that I could sic Jessica on you anytime I like?"

Matt laughed. "I really appreciate you handling the matter yourself, mate."

"Yeah." He rolled his eyes. "I should go. My superior will want a full report on your actions."

[…]

She had written off the first few days as nerves, or a strange side-effect from the loss she'd suffered when her heart had been ripped out by a certain someone who would not leave her mind. It seemed only natural to her that when the soul ached, a part of the body should too. Jess hadn't even noticed, but then again they only spent few hours of the day together anymore – precious little moments shared over breakfast and supper in which she felt truly loved again before reality came crashing down when she travelled to her workplace, or lay in her bed, alone at night. In those moments, Matt's face would swim before her eyes with the sole purpose of driving the stake even further through her flesh. She would gasp for air and shiver in the darkness. Unheard. Unseen.

The pain became more frequent, though, and she felt herself clutching the side of the counter for support more and more often. Only, she wrote it off as the need for fresh air, and she would step out onto the pavement, nodding her head at the security guard stationed at the entrance. _Today, he looked more grim than ever_, she thought, before she let her eyes slip closed and allowed herself to fall.

]…[

Well, this morning's man-talk had been an absolute bust. _Again._ Jess sighed, frustrated to no end, as she focussed all her attention to the hub, trying desperately to ignore the men moving in the background. It was enough that she had to worry about not behaving like a complete idiot around Becker, but now she had to take care of Matt, too? Honestly, would those two ever get it through their thick skulls?

She was thankful for the way Matt and Emily had given them a reason to see each other more outside of a work capacity, and it felt amazing to scheme with Becker – he would talk to her in hushed tones, as if they traded personal secrets that no one else was allowed to hear – but more than anything, she wanted her friend to be happy again. Emily looked worse with every day that passed, and her heart literally ached to see her like that. During the few precious hours together she would try to make her laugh. Sometimes she succeeded, yet Emily kept on wasting away.

Matt didn't look that great, either.

She was startled by the sound of her cell phone ringing, a sound too joyful for her state of mind. She hurried to press the side of the device attached to her ear, hoping it was Emily on lunch break, or something. She could use a good chat.

"_I'm sorry, is this Jessica Parker?"_ An unknown voice said.

"This is she?"

"_You're listed as an emergency contact for Emily Merchant?"_

[…]

He was talking to Becker – about dinosaur-related stuff this time, thankfully – when a wide-eyed Jess turned in her chair, and even though Becker had his back turned to her, it seemed he just _knew. _Like he knew, immediately, that something was wrong with her, and in seconds he'd unceremoniously ended their conversation and walked over to her, allowing Jess' hand to travel to his forearm and rest there while her eyes darted in every possible direction, speaking to the person on the other end of the line.

For his part, his own insides had turned ice cold, the feeling of dread almost making him sick.

And he was right to worry. Through the heavy sound of ringing in his ears, he heard Jess explain how Emily had been taken to the hospital after she'd collapsed at work with a burning fever; how her heartbeat had raced. She hadn't yet regained full consciousness, Jess said. During all this, Jess had clutched Becker's arm tightly – and he'd rested his hand against her shoulder blades, drawing lazy circles there to calm her down.

"I have to.." she jumped up, pulled the headset away and nearly ran towards the exit. "I have to go."

She turned to him, her eyes gazing at him expectantly. "Are you coming?"

]…[

While they lifted her body onto the stretcher and into the ambulance, Emily closed her eyes and tried to picture her favourite painting in the gallery, the one that had held her attention far longer than all the others combined; it was a landscape of green hills and equally vibrant trees, a couple embracing in the distance. While the painting looked inviting enough, it made her feel lonely somehow. Touched right down to the very core of her, holding her heart in a vice grip. It made her think of Matt, and it made her feel like crying. But not today. Today it brought her the comfort she so desperately needed.

Would he come for her, now that she was broken and bruised?

She pretended he would.

And she felt safe again.


End file.
